


BMC Ficlets

by yukiawison



Series: Ficlet Collections [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/F, M/M, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:19:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: BMC ficlets from tumblr.(1-3 from fic-vember 2k17)





	1. Her Knight

**Author's Note:**

> (Pinkberry)

“Brooke! C'mon, I want to try on that.” Chloe pointed to a strapless purple dress in the window and Brooke’s head was bobbing before Chloe even took her hand. She led her along like she usually did and Brooke hoped her hand wasn’t too sweaty. They were at the mall so Chloe could find a dress for the homecoming dance. She was going with some senior Brooke hadn’t met. (Chloe had told her his name but she’d blocked it out.)

As much as Brooke didn’t want to be here doing this with the best friend she’d had a crush on since the 6th grade, she couldn’t just say no when Chloe asked her to hang out.

Chloe was saying something about how purple was her color and that the dress looked like it’d make her boobs look awesome and Brooke was making too much out of the fact that Chloe still hadn’t let go of her hand.

“Do you like it?” Chloe’s manicured nails were on the dress in question now. She held it up to herself, smirk curling on her glossy lips. Her dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders and Brooke was reminded of when they were little and Chloe used to let her braid her hair at recess. It was when Chloe was angry; she’d be dethroned as the king of the four square court and put her hands on her hips and stomp her foot as she stormed back to the picnic tables to stew and Brooke would follow her on instinct.

Chloe was the queen of recess for as long they were allowed a recess. Brooke liked to think of herself as her knight as she braided stray violets she’d tucked in the pockets of her cardigan into Chloe’s soft hair. It always smelled like bubble gum. She thought it was Chloe’s shampoo.

“You’ll get them next time,” she reassured on more than one occasion. “The king square is yours. Jake’s no good at setting the rules anyway.”

“I know,” Chloe replied, but Brooke could hear the smile in her voice.

Brooke nodded at the purple dress and took it when Chloe handed it to her. She was sifting through the racks that had her size and humming to herself. “Tell me if you find anything okay? The dress has to be perfect for tonight.”

“Sure,” she said, looking down at the blur of purples. In 8th grade Brooke had wanted the perfect dress too. Chloe had just broken up with her boyfriend (of two weeks, nothing lasted long in middle school) and told her they should girl power it and go together. Brooke had tried on every piece of clothing she owned and tangled her hair into  50 different styles preparing for the dance. It was worth it when Chloe had complimented the white dress with tiny daisies all over it. She’d nearly stumbled in the too high heels that she wasn’t supposed to be wearing. When they walked in the dance (a hormone fueled affair with a DJ who kept skipping songs accidently) Chloe linked her arm in Brooke’s and she felt like she could be happy just staring at her all night. At Chloe’s side maybe she could do anything.

“I’m going to try these on alright? Wait outside so I can show you.”

Brooke nodded and handed her back the first dress, which she added to the stack of several more she’d found as Brooke’s thoughts were wandering.

When they’d gotten to high school Brooke thought it might be better to just move on. Chloe seemed to be infatuated with everyone but her (every boy at least) but sometimes she’d smile at her in just the right way that Brooke forgot everything that was impossible and dumb to dream about and her heart twisted up in a bunch of knots that she knew she couldn’t untie. And it was okay, she was working on it. And maybe she’d find the right way to tell her everything she’d felt. Maybe Chloe would let her be her knight forever.

“What do you think?” Brooke blinked and Chloe was standing in front of her again in the purple dress from the window. She looked like everything Brooke wanted to be. She looked strong and confident and made for the sleek elegance of this stupid strapless dress. She knew she was going to buy it. She knew she was going to wear it to dance with someone else.

“You’re beautiful,” Brooke said.


	2. In the Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Boyf riends)

Michael knew by now that it was best to show up to Jeremy’s with a thermos of coffee in the mornings. On days where he had to wake his boyfriend up before 8 he didn’t bother knocking, just pulled out his spare key and tread quietly to Jeremy’s bedroom, thermos extended like a shield. 

He didn’t know how Jeremy had managed to make it to any high school classes given his innate ability to sleep through an endless supply of alarms. And when Michael did shake him or kiss him awake he was usually so disoriented that you’d think he’d been in 100 years of cryosleep. It wasn’t like Michael minded though; sleepy Jeremy Heere was one of his top 5 favorite things.

His hair was always ridiculously tangled and falling into eyes. He didn’t smooth it from his face, just shook his head around until he could mostly see, eyes still drenched in sleep and blinking rapidly at Michael and his coffee. 

He only asked for wake up calls on test days and other important engagements that Jeremy had to be presentable for (though when Michael slept over he ended up doing it anyway, often with pancakes and the prospect of a Saturday full of video games.) He didn’t become fully sentient until he’d downed the coffee, and immediately after he was looking around frantically for his t - shirt and cardigan and pants, which Michael handed him in succession as he made his way to brush his teeth and wash his face in the bathroom. Michael would quiz him with a stack of messy note cards in Jeremy’s handwriting as he spouted off barely discernible answers through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

He’d scramble again for his backpack, sometimes tiring himself out again and dozing off on the couch for a minute or two before Michael got him back on track. They were out the door with a couple of minutes to spare most days.

And then Jeremy would look over at him and the look would be soft and feel like coming home and he’d smile with his chapped lips and make a morning of chaos worth it. “Good morning, Michael.” 


	3. Buttons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Boyf riends)

When Michael got home Jeremy’s cheek was still smooshed in the carpet. He had his phone flashlight on and stuck underneath the bed, but so far there was no sign of her coming out.   
  
“Why are you on the floor Jer? Is everything alright?” Jeremy looked up at him and was struck with a rush of guilt. It had been years and yet Michael worried about the Squip acting up. Jeremy hated that he still winced, instinctively, when Michael touched the scars. But today, at least, the Squip wasn’t the problem.  
  
“Buttons is hiding under the bed again,” he said. And Michael’s concerned expression dissipated.   
  
“You’re calling her Buttons?” He countered. Jeremy waved his fingertips encouragingly at the tiny gray cat huddled against the wall. He just wanted her to like him. He hated that he scared her.   
  
“What did you want me to call her?”  
  
“I dunno, something cool like Zelda or Luigi.”  
  
“You want to name our cat Luigi is that really what you’re telling me Michael?”  
  
Michael laughed and Jeremy remembered why he fell in love with his ridiculous ass. He crouched down beside him and pulled a bag out of his pocket. “I got Buttons some treats,” he said slyly, handing him a couple fish shaped biscuits.   
  
Jeremy stuck the biscuits out and held his breath. Slowly, tiny paw by tiny paw, Buttons inched toward him and found the treats. He eased his hand gently to pet her and she was spooked for a second but didn’t run. Instead she looked at him cautiously, whiskers twitching, and then rubbed her head affectionately against his hand.   
  
“She likes me,” he said, awestruck. Michael was cross legged beside him and leaned over to kiss the top of his head.   
  
“Well duh,” he said. “What’s not to like?”


	4. "Remember when you used to care?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a tumblr request with the prompt: "Remember when you used to care?" It was probably supposed to be angsty but it's not lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Boyf riends)

Jeremy Heere was laying on a dorm bed with his hands stuck up straight in the air. Above him tilted a somewhat blurry photo taken senior year and framed and given to him by Michael. It was the whole squad at laser tag: Rich in front, brandishing a laser gun and grinning in the dorky, over the top way he did now, Jake beside him, playing it cool with his arm draped over Rich’s shoulder, Jenna and Christine sandwiched beside them, making a peace sign and giving jazz hands respectively, Chloe with her feet planted wide and gun pointing toward the camera giving her best “I’m going to destroy you all in this game” glare behind Rich, Brooke beaming up at her on her left, laser gun nearly forgotten. And then there was Michael: smile the brightest Jeremy had seen it post-squipcident, hand furtively locked in Jeremy’s beside him, signature red hoodie with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and there was Jeremy beside him, falling the fuck in love. 

He sat up and leaned his back against the faded white wall, lowering the photo so he could inspect his friends more closely. 

Nothing in Jeremy Heere’s life thus far had gone exactly as planned. Most of the time, he’d realized, he didn’t know what he wanted in the first place and the messy, roundabout way he ended up experiencing life actually worked out. Because he’d never expected these friends, especially not in the way he got them, and yet there they all were: captured in a joy filled moment of time, just a phone call away (or in some cases even closer). There was a knock on the door. 

“Hey Jer do you wanna do any of the late night stuff? I heard from some guys down the hall that they have a bonfire for the LGBTQ club.” Michael leaned on the doorframe. “I know how much you love s'mores and being bi.”

Michael Mell lived two floors down from him which was still a lot to process given that for several panicked months he’d feared everything from Michael going to school thousands of miles away and forgetting about them, to them rooming together and then breaking up over something stupid like dirty dishes. 

“Is this real life?” Jeremy said instead of giving Michael an answer. His hands were fidgeting in the pockets of his cardigan and his face felt hot. Sometimes when things came together so nicely it felt like trap. He had the SQUIP to blame for that thinking he guessed. “It’s kinda hard to wrap my head around.”

Michael laughed. “Remember when you used to care?”

Jeremy blinked. 

“You used to care so much about how you looked to everyone else. It wasn’t that long ago even. What I’m trying to say is look at you!“ 

Jeremy didn’t think he looked much different. He still had acne. He had the same converse. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re really growing. It’s the Jeremy Heere Renaissance I know it. Now I feel like you’re finally embracing who you are. You’re not pretending you’re just being. That’s so scary but you’re doing it.”

“I’m really glad you’re here Michael.”

“I’m glad you’re here too buddy.”

“So are are we really going to be happy and like…cool in college?”

“Babe,” Michael said exaggeratedly, leaning in and kissing him to punctuate his point. “We’re the cooliest.” 


End file.
